A Merry Little Christmas ( sophitz )
by flustered dreams
Summary: On a whim to numb her pain, Sophie decides to tell Fitz about Christmas.


**_Have yourself a merry little Christmas_**  
**_Let your heart be light_**  
**_From now on, your troubles will be out of sight, mm_**

Sophie was aware she had a huge project coming up in Telepathy. She knew that Fitz and her had agreed they'd work on specific parts of it, meet up at a specific time, and cross off the rest of it together.

But it had started snowing at Havenfield, suddenly, and that's when a deep chill had sunk into Sophie's bones.

She'd frantically dug through all of her things to find her iPod, satisfied when she finally found it (it had fallen in between her bed and dresser and she'd nearly had a panic attack). The screen clicked to life and her eyes settled on the date, breath catching in her lungs.

It was almost Christmas.

She'd survived so many years without Christmas up until then, so she wasn't sure why her body suddenly felt so sick while thinking about it. All she knew was that there was some empty, caving feeling in her chest.

She _missed_ Christmas. She missed the joy of waking up in the morning, knowing what day it was. She missed making gingerbread houses, smelling the scent of cinnamon and frosting for hours afterward. She missed sitting around the glittering tree in her pajamas. She missed having the camera flashing as her and Amy tore through decorated paper. She missed the cuddling, and the hot chocolate, and the snow angels, and — begrudgingly — the stupid elves that had made up her childhood.

Focusing on the Telepathy project was a struggle after that. She'd instantly grabbed out a thick cape, clasping it over her heart before sliding her feet into fuzzy boots. She threw on a hat and some gloves, taking her Telepathy notebook and pencil with her fore racing out into the snow.

Grady and Edaline called out to her to be inside before dinner, but she'd practically waved them off, too caught up in the feeling that she was choking.

It felt like a dream. The way the snow crunched underneath her feet, and the chilly air burned her nose and tips of her ears. Her breath became a fog, and her eyes blurred as she looked at how beautiful Calla's panakes looked in the distance.

She clomped over to it, focusing on sucking in her breath through her nose and releasing it through her mouth. She kept telling herself it was okay, _she_ was okay, but there was still that aching feeling inside of her that she couldn't shake.

Calla's tree looked stunning in the cold weather. Some of the swaying leaves and blossoms had become crystallized, coated by a dazzling layer of frost. Her bark was icy and glistening, and some of the branches were blanketed in twinkling snow.

Sophie pulled a smile, sniffling a little as she settled down against the trunk. The snow crunched underneath her weight, and she felt the cold seep into her body, not minding one bit.

She became entranced with watching the soft flakes flutter from the clouds above to the ground below, readjusting her hat on her head anytime it'd grow itchy.

Amy was out there, she knew. Somewhere in the world at that exact moment she was alive and breathing, giddily anticipating what was yet to come.

Sophie just wished she could be there with her.

A flash of light caught Sophie's attention, and she turned to peer in the direction where she had seen it from the corner of her eye. Instantly she recognized the sillhoutte striding towards her, with his broad shoulders and dark hair.

As he got closer she could make out the piercing colour of his eyes better, but for once on her life, she didn't feel the familiar erratic pattern of her heart as he sat down in front of her, holding her eyes.

He rubbed his gloveless hands together, smiling. She barely heard his greeting, still kind of dazed, and she almost missed the way he complained about it being so cold out.

"I didn't know it had started snowing here."

Sophie didn't answer. Distantly, she heard him compliment her hat and gloves in some attempt to get a reaction, but she was staring over his shoulder, watching the snow fall.

Fitz was chattering on about what he'd completed for the project thus far, and other ideas he had for how to move forward with it, but Sophie wasn't listening. She was staring at a spot in the snow next to him where one of Calla's blossom had fallen off and become wedged in the icy snow.

"—Sophie?"

She lazily looked over to him, eyes fluttering softly. "Hm?"

"Why do you look so sad?" Fitz queried, frowning.

"What?" she asked, a little too quickly.

Fitz reached forward without another word, and her heart rolled inside of her chest when he put his thumb on her cheek. When he pulled back, she noticed the tear he'd swiped away.

Sophie flushed immediately, tucking her hair behind her ear. She hadn't even known she'd started crying.

She furiously wiped her eyes for any leftover tears she didn't know were there, shrugging nonchalantly. After a minute of Fitz patiently waiting for her to answer, she sighed. "It's really stupid," Sophie warned.

"I don't think anything that's bothering you should ever be considered stupid," he countered, and she could feel her heart begging to escape from her chest.

She nodded numbly, staring off into the distance, watching animals frolic in the snow. She waited for a minute, hoping that Fitz would start talking again and wholly brush off her bad mood. But he kept his gaze on her, patiently sitting and waiting for her to talk to him.

She sighed, the puff of air blowing out in front of her face. She watched the grey mist disappear before mumbling, "I. . . I miss Christmas."

Fitz crunched his eyebrows together. "That's. . . A human thing?" he tried to clarify.

Sophie dipped her chin, working up the courage to look at him. "It's a holiday. We used to celebrate with my family every year, during winter."

She twiddled her thumbs in her lap, clearing her throat awkwardly. She looked away from him again, settling on focusing on her hands. "I told you. Stupid."

Fitz frowned. "Sophie." He reached forward when she refused to look at his eyes, lacing their fingers together. Sophie rubbed her thumbs over his hands when she noticed how red they were from being bare in the cold winter air.

"That's not stupid," he assured her.

She snorted.

"I'm serious, Sophie. If you miss it, then it must have been a big deal."

She didn't say anything, mindlessly rubbing his hand to preserve warmth. She lifted her other gloved hand, gesturing for him to give her his other hand. She heard his tiny sigh before he dropped his hand into hers, fingers lacing together. She held them in her lap almost protectively for a moment before she looked to him again.

He had some tender look swimming inside his eyes that her heart fumbled over itself, skipping a beat. She licked her chapped lips. "Do you know much about Christmas?"

A crease formed between his thick brows as he thought. Eventually he held her eyes once more, shaking his head. "I know it's a holiday. Not much else."

"I could. . . teach you more about it, if you want," she offered, noticing the gleam in his eyes. She was glad that he was watching her so intently, like he actually cared about what she was telling him. It made the weight on her chest feel lighter to know he was listening.

Without hesitation, he nodded. "I'd like that. We could even find a way to turn it into a trust exercise."

His smile was so bright that her heart leaped in her chest. He squeezed her fingers and she couldn't contain her own smile. Sophie bobbed her head happily in agreement. "That sounds really fun."

They spent a few more beats of silence staring at one another in adoration before Fitz broke the moment, chuckling softly. "Is that your notebook?"

Sophie whirled to look behind her. The pages were fluttering in the wind, dampened on the side where it lay in the snow. Sophie flushed when she noticed she'd only written '_Telepathy Project_' on the top of the page in bold block letters, but underneath it, the page was completely blank.

"Stop laughing!" Sophie ordered as Fitz's shoulder shook with his snickers.

"You didn't do _anything_?" he asked in between his laughing, eyes wide and glittering with something playful.

"No, I—" Her lip trembled. Against her will, a grin cracked on her face at his goofy attempt of holding in his laughter, and soon the both of them were lost to a giggling fit.

**_Have yourself a merry little Christmas_**  
**_Make the yuletide gay_**  
**_From now on, our troubles will be miles away_**

Fitz had been sitting alone in his room before Biana burst in, breathing heavily. He'd been reading a book for school, trying to focus on studying the material, when his mind had been miles away.

Fitz had a vague idea on what Christmas was, and though he'd never been too excited when it came to learning about human traditions, it seemed impossible to stop himself from envisioning getting to sit down with Sophie and just. . . Talk about it. Talk about something that had clearly been a vital part of her childhood.

He knew being Cognates meant they were going to have to share personal tidbits from their younger lives — it was unavoidable, if they wanted to reach that goal — but something about getting to sit down and talk through it with her excited him.

However, all thoughts of Christmas and Sophie had been thrown from his mind when Biana flung the door open. He'd set his book down the moment he laid eyes on her, noticing the way her cheeks were damp and her eyes were large and glassy.

"_Fitz_," Biana choked.

His eyebrows pressed together as he stood, striding towards her. Worry coursed through his veins, a storm already brewing. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"She's—" Her sentence dissolved into tears. Fitz's heart stuttered in his chest, but he grabbed Biana by the shoulders, caressing them. His brain was dashing everywhere, trying to connect the dots that hadn't been given to him. All he could do was wait for more information.

"Biana, did someone do something?"

_She's_. That didn't give him much to go off of, but Biana was just crying, ugly sobs bubbling up in her chest. She shook her head, lip trembling. Fitz was so used to seeing his sister stone faced and strong that everything inside him felt like it was shutting down.

"Sophie's gone," she blubbered, bursting into another fit of tears.

Fitz's mind stumbled to a complete stop. He didn't know what to think, at first. "Gone?" he repeated, feeling dizzy. His voice cracked and he blinked down at Biana.

"Grady and Edaline can't find her. Neither can Sandor. But her room is all messed up, and they're it looks like there was a fight—"

His stomach twisted into a sour ball. Sophie's gone. "They didn't— They didn't _take_ her, right? Why would they take her? They know they can't get any information from her head! And Sophie won't talk, because—"

_Sophie won't talk_. No matter what was done to her, he knew Sophie. She wasn't going to say a word if it meant she was keeping others safe.

Fitz cursed, taking a hand through his hair, wishing for once that Sophie wasn't so strong. "Did you tell Dad?!"

"Dad's talking with the Collective and Mr. Forkle," Biana agreed, shoulders shaking. She angrily wiped her eyes. "They're all over at Havenfield looking over everything. I only just found out because Dex called me a few minutes ago, after his Mom suddenly ran out of the house."

_Sophie's gone_. "Okay, so," Fitz started, trying to keep from crying. He didn't want to, no matter how much the news affected him. Crying wasn't going to help find Sophie.

He clenched his jaw, swiftly turning on his heel and grabbing his cape. He slung it around his shoulders, fingers shaking and fumbling as he struggled to clasp it over his heart. Finally, he decided, "We go to Havenfield."

Biana locked her jaw, nodding firmly.

**_And here we are_**  
**_As in olden days_**  
**_Happy golden days of yore_**

Fitz couldn't keep up with how fast the world was spinning. One minute he'd been reading a book, enjoying his sappy thoughts of Christmas and Sophie's smile — the next he was storming up to Havenfield after he had found out she was missing.

Keefe, Tam, and Linh all glittered into the property at the same time as Fitz and Biana did, but Dex was already pacing at the front door, waiting for them. Dex waved to them when he saw them, signaling for them to come over.

Fitz's eyes caught on the faint imprints of boots leading to Calla's tree, a lump forming in his throat. He channeled his legs to run faster to keep up with his other friends, all halting to a stop when they got to Dex.

"Anything new?" Linh asked, her voice faint. She looked like she was trying to refrain from chewing on her nails with the way she'd locked her arms to her sides.

"I haven't gone in, yet. But I've been able to hear them arguing in the living room."

Everyone strained to listen for a second, and on cue, they could all hear muffled shouts.

All of them shared one last look before Dex moved forward, grasping the golden handle of the front door.

Dex swung the door open and they all swiftly filed into the house one behind the other. Lumps formed in all their throats at how any other day, coming into Havenfield as a group would have meant something exciting.

The room went silent as Dex closed the door behind them with a tiny click. Every eye was trained on them as they all shuffled into the living room, a few heads bowed in embarrassment. Fitz didn't miss the way a few of the adults eyes narrowed.

"What are you kids doing here?" Mr. Forkle demanded.

The Collective, Alden and Della, and Edaline and Grady were all huddled into a circle in the living room.

"Sophie's missing," Dex said simply, knowing that summed it up.

"We wouldn't be anywhere else," Keefe added.

"Well, you're _supposed_ to be anywhere else," Mr. Forkle announced. "This conversation isn't for any of you to hear."

When all the teens opened their mouths to start protesting, Mr. Forkle held up his hand, silencing them all. His pudgy face was red, but from exhaustion or stress, they didn't know. "I know you all want to help, but this is something you need to leave to the adults. We have been _extremely_ lenient on what missions you have been allowed to engage in, but _this_ is not up for any debate."

Keefe scowled as Mr. Forkle turned away, beginning to start up the conversation with the group again. Fitz's face hardened, fists begging to clench at his sides. He felt his Cognate rings dig into his palms, only fueling his cause further.

"Don't brush us off," Fitz snapped instantly. "We can help find her."

When the rest began murmuring their agreements behind him, Mr. Forkle shook his head with conviction, whirling around again. "You will do no such thing. All of you are to go to your respective houses and leave well enough _alone_. There will be no reckless endange—"

"We wouldn't be _endangering_ ourselves," Keefe grumbled, making it loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Exactly," Fitz agreed. "That's not the point of us helping. We'd help so that we could find—"

"I have already said _no_," Mr. Forkle reminded firmly.

"But—"

"No means no, Mr. Vacker!"

Even though everyone behind Fitz flinched at Mr. Forkle snapping, Fitz continued, voice raising. "Well we can't sit around and do nothing but _talk_ about saving her!" He wildly gestured to the other adults circled in the room.

When Mr. Forkle didn't respond, only returning the statement with a harsh glare, Fitz continued, "I could reach out to her! We both know that! We could—"

"And I could, too!" he roared back. "But we are in _no_ position to attempt to reach out to something we don't know hasn't been tampered with! There are things _you don't know about_!"

Mr. Forkle was barking then, glaring around to all of them. Everyone's spines shrunk under his gaze. "They have learned more about her in these last few years than I ever intended. And with her enhancing, I fear anything could be possible. If not that, she could be drugged, or some device could be used against her."

Dex flinched at the last part. Mr. Forkle noticed the way they were all shrinking with his stern tone, but he continued, "She will be hurt if she is caught communicating. I will not risk her safety so blindly like that. It is best that we create a _plan_."

He stared into all their eyes until they begrudgingly nodded. Biana had silent tears running down her face, and Keefe's hands were clenched so hard that his knuckles had turned white. Dex was pale, staring at the ground, clearly looking into a memory. Fitz's eyebrows were furrowed angrily, jaw clenched.

Fitz saw Mr. Forkle turn back to the adults. He felt someone tap his shoulder, and he heard the whispers near his ear, telling him that they should go.

But all his focus had turned to the cold, metallic feel of his Cognate rings on his thumbs. He allowed his thumb to graze over the engravings, memorizing the feel of her initials.

He stole one last glance at the group of arguing adults before he turned away.

**_And faithful friends_**  
**_Who are dear to us_**  
**_Well, they gather near to us_**  
**_Once more, oh ooh_**

It was safe to say none of the teenagers listened to Mr. Forkle's warnings. In the end, they all caved, trying to find some way to help push the search forward.

Biana had attempted on multiple occasions to sneak into meetings held by the Collective or their parents. She'd been caught every time, except for the last one, where she returned but admitted she hadn't gotten anything of use.

Dex worked with Sandor on tracking, and eventually Tam joined the two, trying to search Sophie's rooms for any clues as to where she'd gone. Her registry pendant wasn't on anymore, and the trackers sewn into her clothes were also unable to be found, so that was a dead end.

Linh worked with Fitz on trying to find Sophie's thoughts. Even though he'd been warned against it, he wanted to give it his all, just to know that he'd attempted something instead of sitting around. Linh kept watch, ensuring he didn't strain himself too hard, sometimes gathering cool beads of water against his strained brow.

Keefe was definitely the most reckless. He actually went out, storming anywhere and everywhere hoping that he'd stumble across the place Sophie was being held. It was unproductive and dangerous, but no one had the heart to tell him to give it a rest.

Weeks passed, floating away like a steady breeze. They all blurred together, endless hours of plotting and searching. Crying and holding one another. Imagining the worst.

The Collective were stuck in one place, just as Sophie's friends and family. Though the searches didn't stall, they didn't progress.

No one had any idea where Sophie Foster was, or could be.

**_And through the years_**  
**_We all will be together_**  
**_If the fates allow_**

After weeks of zero progress, Fitz finally gave up on reaching out to her. He'd broken down in the middle of a session with Linh, unable to contain the tears and ugly sobs for any longer. No matter what he tried, no matter how hard he pushed, he couldn't reconnect with the warm caress of her mind.

Looking back on it, he felt terrible for forcing her to comfort him all while she had begun to cry herself. They'd both sobbed on the floor for half an hour before Grizel and Sandor had found the two, stooping down beside them and gathering the two elves into their arms.

Sandor had taken Linh back to where Tam and her were staying, while Grizel had put Fitz to bed. He didn't enjoy being ordered to take a nap, but he finally gave in as the lights were flicked off, and he felt sleep calling him.

From then on, Fitz stayed in his room. Occasionally he'd get up and look out the window at the grounds. He'd peer at the forest, knowing it had been so long since Sophie and the group had run amock through the trees, unbothered by the world. He'd look to the lake, reminding himself of the time he'd walked past it, hand-in-hand with Sophie, leading her into the reception hall.

He'd promptly return to sitting in bed and staring at the ceiling, deciding looking out at the world was a bad idea.

_But 'til then_  
_We'll have to muddle through somehow, no_

Fitz tended to have a multitude of nightmares each night. Some where he couldn't get Sophie away in time, some where she'd be declared dead and he'd have to go through that awful funeral all over again, and others where she'd return home to his doorstep, bloody and mangled.

One night, Fitz jolted, kicking the covers halfway off his body when a thunderous crack resounded outside. His heart leapt into his throat as he shot upright, brain screeching to halt. There was a flash of white from outside, that faded just as swiftly as it had appeared.

_Could that have been?_

_No._

It was difficult for him to separate his dreams from reality half of the time, so he tried to talk himself out of getting his hopes up as he hopped out of bed. Cool air assaulted him as he slunk to his window, peering out onto the moonlit lawn.

He couldn't see anything abnormal as he dragged his gaze across the purple grass. The lake was glistening in the distance, and a lump formed in his throat when he noticed a moonlark. He forced himself to look elsewhere, hope still burning stupidly in his heart that he'd see her back, safe and sound, that it wasn't just from an oncoming thunderstorm—

He sucked in a sharp breath when he noticed a maroon figure laying flat on the lawn. They were near the start of the line of trees where Fitz and his friends used to play Base Quest, their bare hand fisted in the frosty grass. Their blonde hair was splayed out around them, and he could see the rise and fall of their chest as they took in unsteady breaths.

_Sophie_.

He threw aside all rational thoughts of waking up his parents or Biana and asking them if they were seeing the same things, and instead bolted out of his bedroom. He grabbed a cape on his way out, sloppily tugging it on and slipping into the nearest pair of boots that he had before nearly catapulting himself onto the lawn.

His eyes scanned the tree line frantically, and the second they landed on a figure sprawled against the icy grass, he sprinted towards them.

When he reached her, Sophie was fisting her one hand in the grass, trying desperately to tug herself towards the house. She wasn't getting very far with crawling, though, as one hand was occupied, holding her lower ribcage.

"_Sophie, _oh my God_, _what—"

Her adrenaline was probably rushing so frantically throughout her body that she didn't even notice the pain. He grabbed her by her armpits, lifting her up just enough so that he could scoop her into his arms. She dissolved into his strength, a sickening gurgling sound erupting from her throat as she coughed.

"Fell," was the first thing she rasped, wincing as she caught sight of her swollen ankle. "Tree. Put me against the. . ."

She pointed to the nearest tree, sentences dissolving.

Fitz nodded in a flurry, carrying her forward so that they were nestled underneath the canopy of trees. Hesitantly, he propped her against the thick trunk of a tree, making a tiny sound when he noticed the way she had her hand fisted directly underneath her rib cage.

She reeked of iron and sweat, blood coating every spare inch of her body. On her stomach and ribs all he could see was red soaking through her flimsy tunic. Red in the gashes down her arms. Red on her lips, staining her teeth. Red between her legs.

Fitz felt the sour bile rise in the back of his throat as he shivered. "I need to call Elwin."

"Stop," she ordered, shaking her head with conviction as he fumbled inside his pockets for his Imparter. "Stop."

Fitz ignored her.

"_Fitz_," she whined, drawing his attention. Her face was broken, chin wobbling and lip trembling as she gasped out, "Too late."

"That's not true!" he barked, not meaning for it to be so stern. "Elwin can fix if. All of it. He always does, a-and we never have to lose you. I _can't_ lose you."

"No," she grit. "It's really too late. I know, okay? I. . . I-I had to accept it with Mr. Forkle and now. . . Oh. . . And now you do, too."

Fitz shook his head wildly, a sob bubbling up in his chest, but Sophie gave him a nod in return. "Yes, yes you do. For. . . For me."

He hated the way her words were so slurred and slow.

"I barely got out," she continued, making grunts as the pain surged, clenching her jaw. "I didn't even think the jump was going to be high enough for me to teleport."

"Save your strength," Fitz begged, nodding softly as she tried to explain. "I just–I've got to call my Dad, then at least. And your parents—"

"No. _Please_. I didn't want you to see me like this. I didn't want _anybody_ to." She whimpered. "But then. . . I thought of you while I was teleporting."

Fitz made a soft sound as she looked at him gently, eyes glittering under the stars. "And I. . . I appeared. . . Here."

He watched her eyes drift around the property, from the frosty grass she was sitting on to the drooping branches swaying above her.

"I was planning on teleporting somewhere else. A pasture or something — somewhere where I could just. . ." She swallowed and repeated, "I didn't want anyone to see me like this."

Fitz didn't know whether to deny her wishes or give her one last gift. Even though he wanted so badly to deny it, her wounds were _so_ obviously fatal. Her rib cage was being wracked with wheezy coughing, occasional garbling sounds erupting.

Fitz whined, cupping her face in his hands. "You should have told them," he cried. "You should have told them everything, Sophie. We would have made it through."

She knew immediately what he was referring to. She shook her head stubbornly. "They were asking things, Fitz, things that would have hurt—"

"But now _you're_ hurt. Look at yourself, Sophie. They. . . _God_. . ."

"I know." She looked so defeated, lips turning into a frown as tears cascaded down her face.

She squeezed her eyes shut as a coughing fit wracked her rib cage, hacking and wheezing. A burbling sound erupted, and a steady stream of crimson pooled out of the side of her mouth.

Fitz's breathed hitched and he lifted his hand, trying frantically to wipe away the dark river for her. Fitz whined in frustration when the blood continued to trickling, sniffling and shivering violently.

She reached up to brush away his tears.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," she murmured, stroking his hair. "Remember. . ." She stopped, face contorting in pain. She released a shaky breath, body convulsing. "Remember what I told you?" Sophie grit out.

Fitz bit his tongue to hold the tears at bay, shriveling inside while trying to imagine how much pain she must have been experiencing. "About what?"

"About Christmas," she answered, voice hushed. She struggled to smile at him. "If I've been counting correctly. . ." Her sentences floated away from her as she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

Fitz sniffled, a few tears escaping. "It's Christmas," he croaked, bobbing his head. "It's Christmas."

Sophie nodded, forcing herself to smile at him again even as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Merry Christmas," she said softly, whining lightly as her face squeezed in pain another time.

"Sophie—"

"I wanna—" She released a tiny hiss of pain, grasping her rib cage as her wound pulsed. Her clothes were sticky and soaked with her blood, clinging to her form. "I-I wanna tell you about it," she declared, cutting Fitz off as he tried to hush her again. "Just. . . Just let me tell you about it."

Fitz was in no position to argue with her, so he bobbed his head, holding her hand. "Okay," he croaked. "Tell me about it."

**_And have yourself a merry little Christmas now_**  
**_Na na na na na na_**  
**_Ah yeah_**

"Christmas isn't celebrated by every human family, but mine did. You. . . You get a tree. Just any tree. Fake or alive, a-and you put it in your living room and decorate it with lights and bulbs of glass." She hissed suddenly, putting more pressure on her wound. Fitz instinctively reached forward to try and help, placing his hand over her own.

Sophie nodded to him as she grit her teeth. A silent thank you. "You put presents under the tree. And you get presents for all your friends and family, and your friends and family give you presents back."

Her face scrunched in pain, biting her lip. "E-Everybody sits. . . _Argh_. . . Everybody sits around the tree and opens their presents together and it's amazing because you get to see how _happy_ you've made the people who get your presents."

Fitz nodded, tears flowing down his cheeks to his chin and throat.

"And there are these statues that you make with snow called Snowmen. And you can also make Snow Angels. And you can have snowball fights and build snow forts. . ."

She opened her eyes suddenly, and Fitz started to panic, opening his mouth to ask her if everything was alright, but she interrupted him even before he could start.

"Can I transmit some memories to you?" The hand on her wound started shaking with the effort of putting pressure. "I want you to have them."

Fitz made a garbled sound in response, nodding quickly in agreement to her.

She didn't smile or nod, but lifted up her hand to allow her finger to brush his temple. A surge of memories flooded his brain, all glossy and glittering and bright.

The first began with Sophie sitting at a dining table. Amy sat across from her, and in the middle of the two was a gingerbread house. Sophie's memory of it was so clear, every smell and sound sharp as the two sisters iced frosting onto the cookie's roof.

The scene shifted to going down a snowy hill atop a sled, and just as quickly it twisted into Sophie trying to ice skate for the first time, promptly thudding down onto the burning cold ice.

The scenes passed by so quickly that Fitz was only getting tiny snapshots here and there, but he knew that he could come back later to fully indulge himself in them.

He caught glimpses of a steaming mug of cocoa warming frozen hands. A glittering, golden tutu wrapped around a tiny waist as Sophie ran around the house with her cousins. A man with a white beard enclosing Sophie in a hug. The wet nose of a reindeer nuzzling against Sophie's hand as she smiled for the camera, standing beside the petting zoo sign. Stumbling into her house after hours playing in the snow, ripping off all her soaking wet snow clothes before cuddling into a blanket on the couch.

The last memory was from later in her life. Fitz recognized that she sat in her canopied bed inside her room at Havenfield. She looked slightly younger — jaw less defined, cheeks more pudgy. Twelve, he guessed.

It was night and the moon was draining onto her floorboards from behind her lace curtains and. . .

She was singing in such a lovely way. Her voice was clear and strong even in its hushed state, and she sang about joy and friends and worries that got washed away. All during Christmas.

**_Faithful friends_**  
**_Who are dear to us_**  
**_Well, they gather near to us_**  
**_Once more, no_**

Fitz opened his eyes to suck in a shaky breath. Sophie's eyes widened lightly in alarm, and she dropped her hand just slightly from his temple so that she was holding his cheek. But he simply observed, "You were singing."

He couldn't get the melody out of his head. Her steady, clear voice rang through his ears, and he found himself shivering, holding onto her. "Sophie. . ."

He could imaging her blushing in any other scenario. But she brushed her thumb along his cheek, lips twitching. "It's a Christmas song," she rasped.

"I've never heard an elf sing," he continued. He reached up, holding onto the hand that was grazing over his cheek. "Sophie, it's. . . You're. . ."

_Beautiful_. _And talented. And so loved._

She met his eyes, which were welling with fresh tears. She swiped them away from his cheeks, clenching her jaw tight. "Can I sing for you?"

Fitz exhaled shakily, nodding. "Only if you can. I'd love that."

She gave a sad smile. Sophie took a steady breath, then, letting her chest rise leisurely and then fall in no hurry. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the tree. For a second terror gripped Fitz's heart, and he'd been about to ask if she was feeling okay when he felt a vibration against the hand he was pressing to her lower ribcage. She was humming, beginning the song.

He gave a light squeeze to the hand she had against his face, tears streaming steadily from both of their eyes.

And then she was singing that magnificent, glorious harmony. Her voice was throaty but light, vibrating with the low notes and sweetly entangling itself with the cool night breeze as she hit the high notes.

Her velvet voice was enough to soothe him into sleep, and he found himself closing his eyes as silent tears made trails down his cheeks.

Fitz felt a pang in his heart everytime she gasped for air or made a tiny burbling sound, squeezing her hand.

He wished they could stay like this forever. Basking in one another's presence, the moonlight filtering through the canopy of trees. Sophie singing sweetly, the tweet and twitter of moonlarks in the background.

Sophie's singing was interrupted by another scratchy wheeze, but as she struggled to continue, Fitz noticed how much the beat of the song had slowed.

Her singing was slowing, then, words slurred and breathy. Soon she was only humming, all strength fleeting from her body, hands growing numb and limp.

Fitz sucked in a shaky breath when her humming stopped as her eyes began drooping, fluttering lazily. "Stay awake, please," he begged. "_Please_ don't go."

_At least stay for everyone else. No one else is here to say goodbye_. _You can't only say goodbye to me._

"Stay for me. I'll get everybody together and we'll have a big Christmas party. A-And I'll get you hot cocoa and I'll get you so many presents and—"

He sucked in a shaky breath, whimpering when she gave a hazy smile. "You're my present," she promised. "You're the best present ever."

"But I've treated you so awful, before. I've gotten so angry. I've been selfish. I'm _so_ _sorry_, Sophie," he cried, squeezing her hands. He was peppering kisses onto her knuckles to her fingertips, down along her palms, burying his face into them. He relished the way she smiled at it, taking her mind off the pain.

If this was it, if this was all there was, he wanted her to go without worry. He wanted her to go with peace.

He met her eyes, sobs escaping past his mouth. Fitz climbed over to her, pulling her into his lap. She gasped softly as he cradled her like a child, nuzzling his face against her forehead.

"You're my present, too, Sophie," he murmured, voice thick, chin wobbling.

And though she asked him to go slow with her, that she was satisfied with their current state of existence for the time being, he couldn't help himself. He met her eyes before leaning closer, asking that silent, fleeting question. A tiny, glorious smile flickered onto her lips and he closed the gap between them,

He held her as she whimpered and melted into it, feeling the way she shivered. Tasting the salty tear against her mouth.

Her eyes remained closed even as he pulled away, resting their foreheads together. Fitz sucked in a shaky breath as her chest started to lift slower, dipping low as she exhaled. "I-I want it to be you," he sobbed. "Always."

Without opening her eyes, a smile flickered on her lips. The hand that was grasping the collar of his shirt was slowly loosening its grip, drooping. "I've. . . I've liked you since the day I met you. . ."

Hearing her repeat those words under their circumstances made his chest swell. A bubbled up sobbed choked out of him as she tugged on his collar, forcing her eyes open as she craned her neck upward, eyes on his mouth.

Fitz swallowed the lump in his throat and pressed their mouths together again, allowing them to meld against one another like burning metal. He could taste the salt on her lips from her tears, tugging on his heart. She was in so much pain. He knew it, no matter how terribly he wanted to be able to deny it.

He broke the kiss the moment her felt her hand slip off from his cheek.

Fitz's heart faltered in his chest. "No, no, no," he murmured, lifting his hand and brushing the hair out of her face. Her eyes were shut, mouth open. His voice cracked as her breathing garbled, and she didn't respond. "Sophie, _please_."

He fisted her shirt tightly in his hands, white knuckles stained red with her blood. His hand migrated to clutching her shoulder, roughly holding her close, rocking back and forth, back and forth in some terrified panic. Anything to keep her tethered to the earth.

He couldn't hear her last breath. He simply felt her chest cave against his body, but never rise again for air.

"No, no, _no_! Please! _Please_ stay awake. Please. Please. _Sophie_."

He shuddered, eyes blurring as his fat teardrops plopped onto her body that was quickly growing cold. He leaned down and kissed her again, even though he knew the life had left her body. Even though he was crying too much to be able to see her clearly.

"No. God, come back. Please come back. _Please_, look at me, I'm right here. I'm-I'm right here. Sophie. _Sophie_. I'm _right_ here. . . Look at me. . ."

Her eyes never reopened.

**_And through the years_**  
**_We all will be together_**  
**_If the fates allow_**  
**_But 'til then_**  
**_We'll have to muddle through somehow_**  
**_And have yourself a merry little Christmas now_**


End file.
